Pebbles and Pearls

She had never been good with conversations.
She could, though, use her words eloquently on paper.

She seemed happy, like a rainbow in full hue.
Vibrant as a field of flowers, her hair blew in the summer breeze. Like a pair of swans in a dark blue lake after sunset, her eyes glistened.
Her lips carried words that would never be heard, for silence was her escape.

She had memories as frail as feathers. She flew with them through the starless skies. She gathered them and wove a dream-catcher for sleepless nights. She blew them away when they became too worn out and hard to bear.

She stringed together pebbles and pearls. She wove seashells in between to keep them company. She was her soulmate. She was her own hero.

She dreamt of a white horse with a flowing white mane... A field of green grass and a horizonless meadow ahead.

She had wanted everything everyone wants but regular things were not meant for her. She was not extraordinary. She was simple. She was different and there was no one else like her.

She could be with no one and no one could ever be with her.